Sleep Well, Professor
by MickiTheMouse
Summary: Severus Snape never feared death. Rather, he almost craved it at times. Death couldn't be that bad, right?   Hermione knows Snape does not see the scar on his neck, but she wonders if he can feel it like another appendage. "Sleep well, professor."


He figures death isn't all that bad. At least he doesn't have to watch Potter make mistakes and try to protect the insolent teenager. He won't have to see Lily's eyes everyday-it's disturbing that he feels a twang of sadness at that-or have to see such a constant reminder. He brightens at his next few thought, surprisingly insistent on being happy while dead. (It's wierder, even, because he's Snape.) He won't have to live as a spy, or watch over Draco for him mother, either. Another disturbing twitch of sadness as his stomach wrenches itself downward.

Well, yes, maybe death is that bad.

_It's warm for death,_ he thinks absently. It occurs to him that maybe he's still bleeding out and his blood is just warm, but he tries to ignore that in favor of the darkness surrounding him. Severus, though the people who have the guts to call him that are few and far between, reaches up to push some hair from his face to try and peer around him. His limbs don't move. _Right,_ he reminds himself slowly, _dead._

More bored than perhaps tired or upset by his own death, Severus Snape rolls his eyes around patiently, waiting for something that would not come. And he waits. And waits. Despite having a surprising span of patience, ink-like black eyes narrow on the area around him in mutes frustration. Sod it, should there be something more than that? Merlin, dying couldn't just give way to death. (Especially not for him; he at least deserved to be a ghost, tormenting Hogwarts students for his eternity.)

It's going to be awkward, he finally realizes what is probably hours later, if he does go where everyone else went-goes. What, with Lily and James potter-though, he almost relishes the chance to see her and make some jibe at him. (Maybe even a 1/17 friendly jibe, if Potter's lucky.) But that was not even to mention Sirius, Dumbledore, and Merlin knows who else he would have to deal with. _Awkward,_ he finally decides, _and infuriating_.

"Crookshanks!" but he is fairly sure that a damnable cat is not supposed to be in his death. "Stop-" Something soft, fluffly, tickles his face and the man tries to rear away before remembering that he can't move. "Bad! You could have very well woken him up."

_It sounds like Granger,_ and suddenly he is annoyed. Godric's gonads! Couldn't he just-atleast-_die_ in peace? If he were up and moving he would scowl, pinch the bridge of his nose, and force himself not to curse worse than Lucius after too-much firewhiskey. Or maybe Minerva when she comes across a group of drunken professors at three in the morning. (Trelawny has sworn she checked to see the drinks were safe...)

"Hermoine!" Another familiar voice, more annoying to him than the last. "Get your bloody furball and get out of there!"

"Ron, don't yell-" Another male, this one more frustrating to him than annoying.

"Would both of you just-"

Almost as if he were teaching the Golden Trio again in class, Severus reminds himself not to do anything rash. Minerva would have his head for hexing them. Though, that doesn't mean he can't induce a little bodily harm. There is what sounds faintly like someone bowling over into a wall before silence, and a slightly perturbed Severus struggles to figure out what was going on.

He _is_ dead, right?

...

Well, damn.

"Ron? Harry?" The girl gives a huff-somewhere to his right, he notes disappointedly-and scrambles up making an indigant noise. She seems to pause-he thinks she's probably at the door-before sighing. "Sleep well, professor."

_No,_ he growls internally, _I will **not** sleep well_. It's impossible for Severus Snape to sleep well. Even if he wanted to sleep, he sems to be in a semi-conscious state, too-far from being even remotely tired to sleep.

It fully occurs to the black haired former-potions teacher that he isn't dead, and he finds himself a mixture of emotions. Confused, annoyed, slightly disappointed, and a little relieved. Rather dimly, he wonders just where he is and why Granger and her friends were by his bedside, but he's more concerned with the furry creature at his feet, determined to cuddle up to him. If he could, he would kick the insolent little cat away.

Despite himself, Severus almost longs for the safety of sleep. It's been weeks since he slept more than an hour or two, and it's been admittedly stressful as well. Faintly, he swears he can hear the girl's words echoing in his mentality. _'Sleep Well, Professor.'_

And he thinks that, maybe, he will.

Based off of ; Sleep Well, Professor by *arriku on ( .com/#/d4azuc1 )


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